‘Theyyam’ by KK Gopalakrishnan: Losing an egalitarian dance tradition to changing lifestyle, beliefs

Past the middle of the 18th century, the East India Company had made a major stride at Plassey in its advent to the country when a king down the peninsula sought to check this imperialism. Thus, Mysore ruler Tipu Sultan embittered the British, who went on to execute a divide-and-rule strategy successfully. Ironically, Tipu’s 1766-92 invasion of Malabar (as a sequel to his father Hyder Ali’s) worked against an age-old Hindu-Muslim brotherhood in the territory. So notes a book, which is fundamentally on a prominent performance tradition of north Kerala.

‘Theyyam: Indian Folk Ritual Theatre’ features a handful of Muslim Theyyams, too, gracing the pre-classical art. Else, as the other 10 chapters reveal, the larger-than-life icons in colourful costumes are steeped in cult worship allied to local Hindu customs. “None of the Mappla Theyyams has the beautiful attire or facial drawing” of the mainstream deities, while a few of them “even climb the nearby palms and pluck coconuts”, notes author KK Gopalakrishnan, a culture enthusiast who writes in journals. The book is rich with vibrant images; the writer is an avid photographer too.

Theyyam, with its egalitarian spirit, ignores class differences and effectively attributes divinity to its performers from subaltern communities. It even brings together non-Hindus while facilitating a reach-out to the supreme power. “The gods, in turn, engage in a dialogue to resolve your issue…. The spiritual and material spheres are thus intertwined,” states the introductory note. If “adding abnormal and astounding stories/incidences to the life of select human beings and uplifting such souls to the stature of the Almighty” is typical of Dravidian mores, such deification of spirits led to the evolution of Theyyam, says the writer, who “probably was an infant” when he was first exposed to the venerable figures.

The resultant close association with the heritage gives the book’s subtitle an adjunct: ‘An Insider’s Vision’. With its extensive rituals and aesthetics, Theyyam “elevates the subaltern to the stature of God, whom one can touch and freely and directly interact”, points out KKG. “Both my parents hail from families who are highly respected patrons” of the tradition, which has a Muslim Theyyam performing for centuries “as an added attraction”.

Such anecdotes in no way mean that the Rs 6,000 book follows a first-person narrative. The chapters range from taking an objective view of the form’s present and past, the commune, course of belief, origin of various Theyyams, their costumes and subtle differences with the allied arts along the region. However, in an increasingly urbanising Kerala, “the present elderly generation may be the last to witness authentic Theyyam performances”, says scholar-sculptor Balan Nambiar in his foreword. What now remain are “the dividends of the artistic treasure invested in the past’s rural set-up”.

So, how many Theyyams exist? The number totals almost 400, but only half of them have a distinctiveness, KKG says, quoting researcher CMS Chandera. How old is the form? The concept originated much before the age of Brahmin domination, but the deities earned their present looks from aesthetics of the 15th or 16th centuries.

More interesting points pour out from the opening segment. For the average art lover curious about this tradition, the 55-page ‘Introduction’ serves information and insight. A few nuggets: though Theyyams are annual, bigger Perumkaliyattam events occur once in five or seven or 10 or 12 years to even in a span of a century or more. The word Theyyam traces its etymology to the Sanskrit word Daivam, meaning God. An artiste may sometimes perform more than one Theyyam at a venue. Only a handful of Theyyams use masks; else, they make a pageantry of make-up. When the artistes from down the caste ladder perform, the upper-caste devout bow before the Theyyam.

Interestingly, though only males perform, Theyyam hardly anchors misogyny. Veteran practitioners and patrons seldom applaud youngsters.  A pre-performance ritual, Vellattam, features slightly-drawn facials and minimum costume is worn, but this doesn’t apply to those playing female Theyyams. The season starts after monsoons, yet there’s the odd Karkkitaka Theyyam that visits houses amid peak rains, ahead of Onam harvest.

Of late, “there is a slow and steady attempt to Brahminise rituals and traditional practices” even as there’s a “self-elevation syndrome” among the underprivileged. Communists embrace the Theyyam cult despite theism going against their ideology. Some sacred groves are turning into concrete temples; worse, make-believe Theyyams are trendy at cosmopolitan tourism shows. The author’s penchant for stringing in contemporaneity doesn’t check his exploring the primordial essence of Theyyam.